The Moonlight Queen And Her Triplets Alpha's

Seven Years Ago

“Get that piece of junk! Make sure you burn her alive once you catch her! She is a witch, she killed my daughter!” Lady Elena's voice thundered in the dense woods.

Hundreds of guards were chasing a little girl. The girl looked hurt, and her face was covered in bruises, yet she kept running, afraid of getting caught. She was barefoot and, unfortunately, hit her foot against a thick trunk, causing her to lose her balance and fall to the ground.

“Argh!” Freya cried out in pain when she realized that her tiny feet were bleeding. She looked at her back, the guards were catching up with her, and the poison her stepmother inserted into her body was slowly making her dizzy.

Freya knew she couldn't lose focus. To survive, she had to make it to the Northern Kingdom – her only hope. That was the only way to escape her stepmother's fury. But how was a twelve-year-old girl supposed to outsmart hundreds of armed men?

The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled Freya's nostrils as she trudged through the forest. She was born in a time of oppression when girls were maltreated and their voices silenced. How could she ask for help when her own voice felt suffocated? No one would help her, the ‘X’ mark on her head was the symbol of death, and anyone who talked to her would surely die.

While running, she accidentally stepped on a thorn and had to stop to catch her breath. 'Why is the whole world against me? What exactly is my sin?’ Freya murmured in pain.

Freya cried silently. Memories of her mother's words flooded her mind: "Always push your limits. You are not a weak girl! You're a warrior!" With a deep breath, she stood tall, determination etched on her face. Her fists clenched, she bent down to remove the thorn, its presence a painful reminder of her frantic flight. The pain was torturous, and her leg kept bleeding.

“Argh!” Freya groaned and bit her tongue to suppress the pain.

A blast of heat swept past her cheek. A fire touch landed beside her, sending sparks flying into the underbrush. The air was filled with the acrid smell of burning leaves and the crackle of flames. Freya turned, her heart racing, as more fire touches rained down around her, casting flickering shadows on the trees. Her eyes widened in shock, the guards were bent on destroying her, and they didn't mind throwing their touches at her.

“Hmph!" Freya growled and took a sharp intake of breath. She quickly limped across the woods, her injured leg throbbing with each step. Her eyes looked around, searching for where she could hide or what she could lean on.

"Use what's available to get what you want." Her mother had once said, and with a newfound determination, she swiftly hid under a fallen trunk. But her refuge was short-lived when she saw a serpent, its body gliding silently from the dark. Freya quickly scrambled out of her hiding spot, in the process, her foot landed awkwardly on a hidden root, sending her stumbling into the underbrush. She pushed through the tangled branches, ignoring the scratches on her arms and face. As she came out on the other side, her leg brushed against a cluster of glossy green leaves.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. But as she continued to limp-run, a creeping sensation began to build on her skin. It started as a gentle tingle, then grew into a fierce itching that made her want to scratch her skin raw. Freya's eyes began to water as she bit back a whimper.

“What is happening to me? Did I touch a poison oak by accident?” She asked herself, feeling immense pain. Unable to stop herself from crying out, Freya bit her cheeks, a copper taste filled her throat, as she swallowed her blood.

“Mom, is this the end of me?” Freya whispered, tears streaming out of her eyes. A pothole was in front, but she failed to see it in time and ended up falling into it. She struggled to come out, but it was impossible, and after using up her little energy, Freya gave up and sat down in the hole, waiting for a wild bear to devour her. She felt helpless, and memories of when her stepmother lied to the royal council that she killed her stepsister flooded into her mind.

“Why does it have to be me every time? Why am I cursed? Why is my fate so horrible?” Freya asked the night sky, as tears streamed out of her eyeball.

“Where could she be?” A hoarse voice snapped her out of her thought, and she quickly bent her head.

“Who knows? She is a witch, she might have turned into a bird and fled off!” another guard replied and hissed loudly. The men continued their gossiping and eventually moved forward. After making sure that they'd left, Freya allowed her mouth to cry for as long as it liked.

‘You killed your parents! You killed my husband! You and your mistress of a mother are bad luck!’ Freya remembered the slogan her stepmother constantly told her. The red scars on her back were proof of the numerous whips and hot knives she had to endure for a crime she knew nothing about.

Freya remembered the video where her father's face dropped as soon as the midwives informed him that she was a girl. He had cursed the moon goddess for making his first fruit a girl. She didn't blame him though, no one accepted her, and her mother kept struggling to make her a normal child when there was nothing normal about her.

“Hey, are you alright? What are you doing down there?” Freya heard a masculine voice, and when she looked up her tears involuntarily stopped.

'I am saved!’ She whispered in relief, but as soon as she spoke, her face turned pale. She wondered, in the darkest recesses of her mind, if survival was truly a blessing. Would death not be a kinder fate?

There were three young men with piercing eyes, one of them had a mischievous grin, while the other two looked at her with furrowed brows. They were holding hunting guns, and Freya wondered if they were the ones who would ultimately kill her.

“I told you we shouldn't have come to this kingdom, strange things happen!” The one with a mischievous grin pouted his lips.

“Forget it, Theo, you are a lazy piece of junk,” a blue-eyed man replied, and he stretched out his hand to Freya, offering to pull her out of the pothole. A gentle smile was on his face.

Freya looked at his hand suspiciously. She had learned not to trust anyone because humans were fond of disappointing. But she had no other option at this point and reluctantly grabbed his hand.

The blue-eyed man pulled her out, and in a haste to escape from his grip, she stumbled, but the last of the men caught her before she could fall. He stared at her with his green eyes, his eyes locked onto hers with an unnerving intensity. Freya felt a shiver run down her spine as he mouthed a single word: "Mate." The two other men looked surprised, and they looked at her with shock.

Freya arched her brows in confusion, wondering what was happening. Unfortunately, before she could ask a question, her stepmother's haunting voice echoed in the woods.

“Now, now, pet, be a good girl, the mages are there to clear your memory, you won't remember any of this!” Her stepmother sounded happy, as though she had been bribed.

Freya's eyes widened, and she looked at the men with an emotion-filled gaze. “No, no. Please, help me! Don't let her take me away!” She desperately begged them. Her fingers involuntarily went into her mouth, and she began to chew her nails.

The men looked at one another as if considering their options. They looked like they wanted to help, but they knew it could endanger the young lady's life.

“We have to go. But we'll meet again, very soon. We promise,” the man with blue eyes whispered into her ears, and gently kissed her forehead. Freya felt a fire pass through her body, and her eyes felt weak, her body dizzy.

And then, just as suddenly, the men were gone, disappearing into the trees. Freya was left standing there, wondering if she'd just imagined the whole encounter. When her stepmother finally caught up with her, the dizziness took over her body, and she collapsed on the floor.

“They are my mates,” she murmured before closing her eyes.

"I heard the royal triplets are coming," someone whispered in the school's hallway. "I don't know what they want, but I've heard they're not to be trifled with. They killed their entire family just for the throne.”

*******

Freya's Point of View:

“Never let your wolf out, love, because the minute you do, you'll be devoured by your very being! You are cursed, you are an abomination! Your destiny has been decided, your fate is cruel!” My mother had icily whispered into my ears before she entered the royal carriage along with my father, King Rolex.

That was decades ago, but I still remember it like it was yesterday, and as I took another step into the prestigious Royal College, a cold shiver ran down my spine, and my feet began to tremble beneath me. I had the urge to run away, to escape from this horrible nightmare, but I knew it was all futile. I will never be able to escape. To the lower-class community, Royal College was paradise,